(Open) Between the velvet lies

[Drogon]

(OOC: This first bit all happens before arriving at the party; feel free to skip to the next bolded spot for everything that happens IN the party.)

Aang was starting to regret having passed up on the hospitality of the family he'd left only hours before. It seemed the nap he'd taken before his initial encounter with Diane was shorter than he'd imagined; it was still very much the middle of the night, at least in Camelot, and exhaustion from the previous day was beginning to set in. He had been walking along the edge of the Nexus for the last hour and a half after traversing the gate, and the harsh white sameness of it all seemed to have been seared onto his retinas ever since he'd stepped out of the darkened nighttime Camelot. The effect of this added visual fatigue to the physical fatigue already present, and Aang was beginning to feel rather zombie-ish. Which was fitting, considering his destination.

Aang was headed for the Pale Moors, the gate to which seemed close ahead. Of course, it had seemed close ahead for the last half-hour because the lack of a horizon and unchanging ground in this place, so that didn't mean much. From his various inquisitions on the way, Aang had picked up that the Pale Moors were home to all forms of grotesque nightmares, headed by the apparently infamous Dracula, most powerful of a species known for drinking human blood. Yes, it was a grisly destination, but in the knowledge that he'd have to go there to meet the man who would likely be his gateway to finding masters to teach him bending of other elements, Aang trekked onwards to the gate.

In a few minutes, he was there. The giant, dull grey rocks arching ominously over the gate told him he’d picked the right one - No other verse had so depressing a premise, and therefore an entrance, as the one standing before him. “Oy! You goin’ in or not?” Apparently, Aang had been standing in front of the intimidating structure for longer than he realized.

“Yeah, sorry. Just tired.” Aang turned around to reveal a rather short green creature, alone, standing as a hunchback and with ears and a nose of disproportionately large proportions.

“No need’a gawk, eh? ‘S rude. Though I spose if yer new and where yer from there arn’ goblins like meself, it only makes sense. Really though, kid, I’m on a schedule ‘ere.”

“Right, right. Goblin? Huh. I’m Aang. What’s your name?”

“Hrm. R’texum. You’s not so bad, kid. C’mon, ya ever been to da Pale Mooahs before? Must be goin’ to dat fancy paahty Dio man’s puttin’ on. Look, I’ll show ya ‘round, if ya’d like.”

“Oh! Nice to meet you Rrr...extum? But, no thanks, I need to find an inn or something to sleep in for a bit before going to that party. I’m pretty pooped.”

[color=#008000]“Close enough. And, yeah, yeah, I can getcha into an inn. Might be haahd in Daahkshiah this time a’ night. C’mon, I’ll show ya there.”

The unlikely companions stepped through the portal. Aang wasn’t entirely sure he trusted this “goblin,” but figured if anything went sour he could ditch him at the inn and find somewhere else to sleep. Upon arriving in Darkshire, it was suddenly very obvious that the doomy descriptions of the place were not at all amiss. It was nighttime, yes, but not a single star shone in the sky, for dark-brown clouds were all to be seen in the air. Dreary shacks and shops lay half in shambles about the square in which the portal to the Nexus was hosted, threatening to close in on the new arrivals just as their doors remained tightly closed in on their residents. This town was like a cornered boar-q-pine: It was obviously very scared, scared of something, and since it had nowhere to go, it was being forced to fight back, even if that meant probably scaring off potential allies.

“Taken it in yet, kid? Ain’t it neat? Anyway, only one place what’ll take ya in this time o’ night. You’ll be wantin’ the Shroudmare Inn.”

The two of them walked a few blocks from where they’d appeared in the plaza, eventually spotting a dingy, dangling wooden sign labelling the aforementioned establishment. “You go on in. I’d best be gettin’ off with meself. Folk round ‘ere don’t much like my kind, and for good reason, too. I’ll… See ya ‘round, Aang.” Before Aang could say anything in return, the goblin had disappeared. He turned back around to face the Inn, and knocked.

“Who is it?”

“Uh, my name’s Aang. I just need somewhere to sleep for the night.”

“Sounds human.” A tiny latch near the top of the door popped open, and an eye leered down at him from above. “Looks human. You human?”

“Yes? I mean, I think so.” Aang glanced down at his arms. Yup, still people arms.

The door swung out, nearly catching Aang in the face, and a hand shot out, pulling Aang into the building and closing the door in a single swoop. A grisly, plump woman and a tall, emaciated man stood examining him - the hand seemed to belong to the woman - for a minute. “Teeth?” He showed them. The two glanced at eachother, nodded, and let go of Aang’s robes.

“Sorry about that, kid, we’ve just been getting lots of… dangerous visitors around here lately. Your room’ll be first on the left after the second flight,” a woman hand gestured dismissively, “and you’re obviously a new prime, you can make yourself food if you want.” And with that, the two strange hosts ambled back over to the bar where more than a few grizzled travelers sat, glaring, their orders having been set back by Aang’s untimely arrival. “I’ll… just be heading on up then.” The patrons averted their gazes, and Aang scurried up the stairs and into what must have been 10 square feet of space and a straw “bed” to the side. Ah, no big deal, he’d slept on worse on his travels.

Circulating the air between the straw bits, Aang checked for bugs. None. Impressive. He set his glider on the floor and hopped onto the bed. He always slept in his clothes; after all, it was the quickest way to get going in the morning. Soon, the troubles of the day were gone, and he was sound asleep.

Dizziness. Aang was spinning, the world was spinning and waving, various shades of purple and green, waving, intertwined, spinning. A roar in the distance, but it was barely audible because of the static, the moaning, the high-pitched bugle spraying about a single note eternally - And then in the distance, a streak of red, a different distance now, of course, still spinning. Closer, closer and the red hit Aang’s arm, now pain. Only a little, less than there should’ve been, but more red streaks now, out in that wavey field of green, purple - all closer, and all scrapes, flowing gently, harshly through an arm or a neck or a foot, just a gash, just a little pain. And then it all stopped. The spinning, the waving, the red. The green settled into a dirt floor interspersed with weeds, the purple into cave walls, and Aang was lying on the ground, unable to move, there should’ve been pain but there wasn’t much, but that was why he couldn’t get up, was because of the reds, the gashes, the pain. He turned up his head, and there stood a great beast, crying out in mourning, giant red tongue coming down for the red and absorbing it, it was healing him, it was making the gashes disappear.

Suddenly, there was clarity. Above him stood Appa, the great flying bison, Aang’s friend from the beginning, and outside of the cave there were flames. He could now feel the heat, he knew now those weren’t gashes, they were burns, there had been an attack, and Appa had carried him away, had hid him, had saved him. And in that moment, Aang knew. Aang knew that Appa was okay, that Appa would be okay without him, and that they would finally see each other again, someday. Now, he could continue travelling, could wait in peace, because it was assured.

Appa will be okay, and I will get to see him again.

Aang awoke with a start. He remembered the whole thing vividly. A smile came to his face, and he hopped up, grabbed his glider, and flew down the stairs and out the door.

His smile barely faded when he burst into the street to see that it wasn’t actually that much more active in the daytime. Neither was the sky, to be fair - it was still gloomier than most places’ nights, albeit a bit brighter than it had been upon his arrival. Aang jumped up on the roof, and gave a scout about. It seemed to be about midday already, based on the lighting, and Aang had some traveling to do. The town was small, much smaller than it had seemed the previous night in the dark and from the ground. He pulled the flyer out of his pocket, feeling and making sure that the pouch and ring were still in said pocket, and checked the directions on the back. “Follow the main road out of town,” and then he was to to turn off after a bit and follow a rutted dirt path the rest of the way to the mansion. Doable. Glancing out to the far edges of the town, it was rather obvious which way to head in accordance with the directions on the flyer, but it was at the other end of town from the street housing the Shroudmare. No big deal, he could make a shortcut. Leaping diagonally into the air towards the road, Aang unfolded his glider, allowing himself to float across the tops of buildings for a good half of the way to the edge of the town before having to land on the road. Already pumped from his dream and not willing to let his day be dampened any further, Aang hopped onto an air scooter and, to the bemused glances of most of his passersby, skated out of town with a “Whee!”

[brief intermission, insert elevator music here]

The air scooter had been tiring after twenty minutes or so, so Aang was now just walking along the increasingly-less-well-beaten “main road,” as it were. He’d seen one or two small parties headed back along the way, but more that he’d passed up going in the same direction. Headed to the same place, presumably? Maybe. The unsettling thing was that he hadn’t actually yet seen any of the creepy-crawlies that he’d been so frequently warned were common around these parts. Up ahead, he noticed a fork to the right that sounded, at least in theory, like the one described on the invitation. He again pulled it out of his pocket. “Really, it’s the only one of its sort within quite a distance, you can’t miss it.” Helpful. Well, this must be it then.

As soon as Aang stepped off the main road and onto the smaller path, his surroundings instantly became darker and, well, spookier. Well, that was unsettling. He briefly considered turning back, but then remembered his promise to the Brownings, and forced himself to step forward and continue on the increasingly-fishy side path. If anything came up, he could always fly away on his air scooter, or just plain run.

The path bordered an ominous black wood on one side, but to the other there was nothing but grass, and vast, sweeping fields of it. It had rustled suspiciously a few times, but any bad feelings Aang had had of the field were cleared by using the wind to his advantage to flatten the grass and check for anything that might be watching him. Each time he’d come up empty. That strategy didn’t help much on the right, though, what with the murky woods and all. After a few hours of walking, interspersed lightly with brief bursts of air scooter-riding when the woods felt a bit too much like they were eyeing him as a dinner prospect, the woods gave to a wide clearing on the right, while on the left the wide-open fields gave way to an endless expanse of trees, with the effect of the path essentially ending nestled in an enclave in this small corner of deforestation, with a giant mansion plopped down right in the middle and a few smaller buildings off to its sides. It would’ve been scenic, really, had it not been starting to get dark and had the woods not already made him jittery enough during the day.

Aang approached the front of the mansion, which sported a ludicrously large set of double-doors attended by a lone man in a mask to the side accompanied by two piles of what appeared to be animal masks. Some of them seemed to even have actual animal fur plastered on the front. Aang would be making sure to try and avoid those.

“Excuse me, sir? Is this the entrance to the party?”

The doorman looked down at Aang with disdain. “The masquerade, my young fellow. I assume you must be a prime, trying to get in for free and without distinguishing jewelry of any sort? In that case, you’ll be able to summon up” - a sweeping wave from the left hand - “something… worthy of being seen inside. And clean yourself up while you’re at it. You may use the barn.” He pointed off to the right of the house to one of the smaller buildings, which looked more like a stable than anything, but seemed to house no animals. Odd.

Aang gave the doorkeep an internal raspberry, then jogged over to the stable. There really WAS nothing here - but for the sake of his dignity, he ran around back where any other arrivals wouldn’t see him changing. He HAD completely forgotten about the invitation’s “nice clothes” clause. Thinking for a minute, he began to summon his best memory of an Earth kingdom noble’s garb in his size.

By the time it was finished, a few other guests had arrived and there was a short queue at the door. No matter how many times he tried, there was just something about it that felt… Off. Oh well, it would probably at least get him in. Aang quickly removed his travel garb, airbrushed off most of the day’s accumulated sweat and dirt, and equipped his new outfit. It fit fine, at least, and was pretty light. He began walking back to the party, almost forgetting to jog back and reacquire the invitation and the all-important ringpouch. Deconstructing his standard garb to be remade again later, he hopped out into the open and into the line at the door.

The individual and two couples in front of him quickly were admitted, leaving him again to stand before the doorkeeper. Peering down at him again, this time the door guy nodded. “Approved. Take this mask, and go on in.” Aang was given a monkey mask - Wooden, that was a relief - and ushered through the doors as he threw it on. He was met by a small crowd in a narrow entry hall.

Suddenly, a very tall, muscular blonde man came out onto a balcony overlooking the crowd. "I, the esteemed Dio Brando, am proud to welcome you all to The Masquerade. If you will don your masks at the door I will be happy to show you all to the dance floor where we have a most prestigious occasion prepared for you all." This was met by a round of applause as Dio, who appeared to be the host of sorts, beckoned, and an even larger doorway than the first was opened in front of them to reveal the vast dance hall as he himself dramatically put on the mask of a lion.

Upon entering, Aang was taken aback by the sheer size and opulence of the scene before him. It seemed he was one of the earlier guests - That was good, as he’d have plenty of time to search for Faren. How he remembered that name so clearly, he had no clue. The dance hall in front of him stretched for what seemed an eternity in comparison with anything but perhaps the Nexus, and was being slowly populated with couples dancing for a bit to a small instrumental group in the corner, then switching partners. Aang noticed the pairings were not determined by sex, but rather more often by what masks the participants were wearing. Odd. But it seemed more people were wearing the slightly simpler version that Aang also had, so perhaps the other mask style was a privilege granted to paying entrants. Though, Aang didn’t see anyone in purple, so Faren must not have arrived yet.

Upon wandering the edges of the floor for a while, Aang encountered a sort of buffet area accompanied by a small grove of tables, presumably for eating or resting between dances. Grabbing a plate, Aang zipped straight for the sweets, picking out a particularly enticing jam donut sort of contraption before heading over to seat himself at the closest table to the dance floor in order to catch a purple-robe-wearing masked man as he entered the hall.